


How's the taste?

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neck Kissing, awkward Reese is shy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw catches Reese nibbling on Finch between the working hours, and grows curious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How's the taste?

Shaw learned that Wednesday wasn’t only ‘ _hump day’_ – it was neck day. A day where Reese would sneak around the library and pounce on Finch left and right, encircling his waist and nibbling on his neck. The first day Shaw saw it by happenstance, just crossing over to get some entail from Finch when she passed an even row of bookshelves and stopped. There, out in front of the window, she saw the slim and tall figure of Reese, body curved down softly and arms curled possessively around the older man. Finch was looking out the window, a small drizzle pouring down on the outside inhabitants, and he smiled-leaning back into John.

That first day she discreetly walked away, but had the sense that John knew about her presence. After the third time she caught them, this time standing in front of the desk and playfully gnawing on each other’s necks like some love drunk teenagers, she prompted John over the beer after work.

“So, does he taste good?” Samantha ventured, sipping at the bourbon with a sly grin, watching as John’s hands started to tremble and he almost the split his whiskey down the front of his shirt.

“E-Excuse me?” The operative stuttered, and Shaw thought was rather endearing, like a child caught in the act of stealing freshly baked cookies from the oven.

“Harold,” She said causally, sipping at her drink again and looking up at the tall man with dark, prying eyes. Reese stammered for an answer, getting red all the way to the tips of his ears, _and possibly his toes_ , Shaw mused.

Until finally, “Good.” was slipping off his lips, and John downed the large glass in one go, needing the alcohol. Reese may be a killer in the night, but on the causal side, beneath that cool veneer, laid an utterly hopeless, yet happy man. And Shaw didn’t ask any more, any less, she just let the conversation and her smile drop.

They both deserved some privacy, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, more Rinch fluff.


End file.
